


Reverse Week Fills

by entangledbanks (summerhurleys)



Series: Little Comforts Verse [20]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Ageplay, Not Verse Canon, THE WAYCEST IS COMPLETELY PLATONIC, tumblr requests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2522924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerhurleys/pseuds/entangledbanks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I set up a week where I (patri) will be publishing non-verse canon but still non-sexual ageplay bandom fills on the verse tumblr. All fills are requests that have been placed over the most recent weeks. INVOLVES DIFFERENT PAIRINGS IN BANDOM AND EVEN CRACK PAIRINGS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An anon wanted some little!Brendon with Daddy!Mikey~

“Daddy, wanna cuddle.” Brendon says with a slightly demanding tone, crawling into the bed next to Mikey, Abu in hand and bright green pacifier in his mouth.

“We can do that, buddy.” Mikey hums as he puts down his tablet on the nightstand, opening his arms so Brendon can make residence in his lap, still warm from sleeping in his own bed.

Brendon takes his time getting comfortable in his Daddy’s lap, burying his face into his shoulder and wrapping his arms and legs around him as if he were a koala. Mikey could almost feel each little puff of breath Brendon took on his skin, slightly cool and rushed.

Once Mikey can tell that his baby boy is comfortable enough, he grabs for one of the blankets on the bed and covers him with it so he won’t freeze after a while. Brendon makes a pleased sound when he feels the soft fabric of the blanket come over his back, and snuggles closer to him.

It’s not entirely too often that Brendon will come to Mikey himself for cuddles during either his naptime or bedtime, so Mikey takes it with a grain of salt. It’s hard sometimes for Brendon to fully come out when he’s in his headspace, and Mikey never pushes him to be.

But Mikey is completely fine with taking care of Brendon, even if the extent of it at the moment is giving him cuddles, baths, and reading him stories before bed some nights. He’d be fine if it went further than that, and he knows that Brendon knows this. He’ll be ready when Brendon is.

end


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snippets where Frankie and Gee are in headspace at the same time feat. Mikey~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was too fun to write, thanks anon who requested it~

“Mikey, _Mikey!_ Don’t you think Gee has the bestest drawings?” Frank’s literally tumbling into Mikey’s lap as he asks this question, pieces of marked on paper in hand.

Gerard’s sitting across the room from them at the coffee table, giggling madly as he watches Frank’s antics. _Mikey’s still not entirely sure how he ended up taking care of both of them at the same time._

“They’re pretty neat, yeah?” Mikey replies while trying his best not to accidentally tip Frank off of his lap, seeing as he was seated awkwardly and was shoving pictures in his face.

“Uh-huh! Gee’s drawings are the best things ever, and I’ll punch you if you don’t think so!” Frank scampers off of his lap before Mikey can really say anything, going back over to where Gerard’s sitting; now howling with laughter.

“Violence isn’t the answer, Frankie!”

-&-

Mikey knew from the start that the game of _Monopoly_ Gerard and Frank had reeled him into was going to not end well, and he was _darn right_. He notes this to himself as he watches Frank shove all of his paper money onto the board (and on top of most of his own properties) before flopping onto his back on the floor with a frustrated whine.

“Don’t wanna play this game ‘nymore, Mikey. It’s _dumb_.” Frank says, then rolling on his side to face Gerard, who had now dropped his money on the floor and in his lap. “Wanna play in the leaf pile outside.”

“Yeah, _Monopoly_ is really really boring.” Gerard agrees, starting to crawl over to Mikey who was sitting across the table from them. “I want to jump in the leaves with Frankie! Please?”

_“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”_

Before Mikey can really think of a good, responsible answer to their questions, he’s pounced on by them both, and _how did Frank get on his back so fast? He’ll never know._ Gerard’s in his lap, displacing the banker money which he had precariously laid on his legs earlier and making it scatter on the floor as he bounces in anticipation.

“Okay, okay, we can go jump in the leaves, guys.” Mikey says, trying to gain a little more control over them as he talks. “But we’ve got to clean this money first and get it back in the box. Can we do that?”

After some whining from the both of them and a little more convincing on Mikey’s part, they do get the _Monopoly_ money cleared up and boxed away even in its eventual disorganized sort that Mikey knew he’d be tidying up later during the boys’ naptime. They get all kinds of crazy energy he didn’t know they had once they’re released into the backyard, acting as if they’d been trapped the whole time and chasing each other for a while before actually jumping in the leaves.

Mikey’s just glad they didn’t do this inside, _who knows how much they would’ve broken if they had?_

-&-

Mikey has literally _no idea_ how Gerard can be so concentrated on the paper he was coloring on not to notice _Frank practically sitting on his back and drawing on him_ with Crayola markers and those funky little stamps he’s pretty sure Patrick left behind when he last came over. But he is, he’s barely flinching as Frank draws what looks like a more fuzzier version of Lola on his back, using a marker that’s more red than pink (because they were _Frank’s_ markers and had been tinted with black over time.)

The next time Mikey gets a good look at what Frank’s drawn on his older brother, its bathtime and Gerard is practically giggling like mad as he looks at himself in the mirror. “Mikey, Frankie drew spooky ghosts on my arm! He drew Lola on my back too, and a flower, I think.”

Frank looks pretty proud of himself as he sits on the closed-lid toilet, watching Gerard observe his new but temporary body art. Mikey doesn’t even know quite what to think, cause when the heck did Frank get the latter two designs on him? “They look great, Gee. Good job, Frankie.” He murmurs with a firm shake of his head as he finally moves to help Gerard out of the day’s sweatpants so they can move on to get bath time started.

“Wanted Gee to look pretty, Mikey. So I gave him drawings!” Frank says, a wide smile on his face.

Yeah, Mikey’s heart totally melted right then, and stayed that way for a good, long while afterwards.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Travie/Pete hurt/comfort fluffiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS HASN'T EVEN BEEN PUBLISHED ON THE VERSE TUMBLR YET BUT I DON'T THINK I'LL BE ON THIS AFTERNOON TO POST SO THERE YOU HAVE IT. I hope you enjoy anyways.

At first, Travie didn’t even realize what Pete had been doing as he sat on the sofa, supposedly watching _The Snorks_ on the TV. Travie had honestly thought that Pete was either scratching an itch on his thigh or petting his stuffed cat Major Tom. He continued to believe that up until he heard a rather familiar _thwacking_ sound that was fingers hitting skin. 

“You okay in here, tiger?” Travie asks, poking his head out from the kitchen and only seeing a bit of Pete from the sofa. 

“’m ‘kay, Daddy.” Pete mumbles, peeking over the top of the sofa wearily at Travie. _He didn’t seem entirely fine in Travie’s mind._

Travie puts down what he had been working on and goes into the living room, to the sofa where he finds Pete roughly flicking his thigh, which was already covered in little red marks _presumably from flicking for a long period._ Quickly, he slips onto the sofa next to him and grabs his hands into his. 

Pete automatically freezes up with a sharp intake of breath, eyes going wide and brimming with tears. “D-Daddy….” His voice deflates as soon as it comes to life, and he bows his head to look in his lap as he takes more shuttering breaths.

“Shhhh, buddy, shhh. Try to breathe for me, Pete, even breaths.” Travie says, squeezing Pete’s hands reassuringly, rubbing his palms with his calloused thumbs. 

It takes close to ten minutes and many reassurances in Travie’s part before Pete isn’t shaking anymore, isn’t looking away from him. Travie decides to pose his burning question then, knowing that Pete will more likely answer it now than he would have before. “Pete, can I ask you a very important question?” 

Pete doesn’t do anything but nod, and Travie leans in a kisses his forehead before he asks. “Why were you hurting yourself, kiddo? I’m not mad at you, I just want to know how to make you feel better.”

Pete bites his lip before he answers, squeezing Travie’s hand rather tight as he speaks. “Feel dumb, Daddy.” He stumbles, then squirming in nervousness as he awaited his Daddy’s response. 

Travie doesn’t get mad like he promised, doesn’t get upset like Pete thought he would. He instead managed to gather him up in his lap, holding him securely and rubbing his arms to reassure him. “You’re not dumb, Pete, you’re far from dumb. In fact, you’re my brilliant boy. Remember those pancakes you helped me make yesterday?” 

Pete nods, looking up at Travie with wide, still red-rimmed brown eyes, curious to hear where he was going with this. “I ‘member.”

“Well, I thought it was really smart of you to recommend putting the blueberries and chocolate chips _in the batter_ instead of on top, it tasted really good. You also did a great job helping me flip them, too.” 

Pete giggles fondly as he remembers the previous morning and flipping fat pancakes with Travie, letting him guide his arm so he could do it right instead of flipping it onto the ceiling like he’d done the last time. He’s feeling a little bit better as he thinks about it, nuzzling closer to Travie with a small smile. “’hank you, Daddy.”

“No problem, tiger. Anything to make you feel better. You wanna lay here some more?”

“Yeah.” Pete replies, moving to make grabby hands at Major Tom, who was still sitting on the other side of the sofa. “Wanna cuddle with you _and_ Major Tom.” 

Travie leans forward a little so Pete can grab the stuffed orange tabby cat, hugging him close once he’s back in his possession. It doesn’t take long for him to get comfortable in his lap again, using his free hand to grasp Travie’s shirt as he cuddles close. 

Soon enough, Pete falls asleep, clearly exhausted from crying and generally feeling down. Travie grabs for the remote and changes it to the QVC, settling in for a nap himself with his baby boy. 

_End._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some little!Pete/cg!Gabe fluff~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an anon wanted some little!Pete with Papi Gabe, and this happened. :)

"Petey, you know you weren’t supposed to take those cookies while we were at Travie’s place." Gabe coos as he allows Pete to sit in his lap one evening.

"Was hungry though, Papi," Pete mumbles as he buries his head in Gabe’s arm once he’s comfortable in his lap. "And they were soft cookies too."

Gabe fondly shakes his head and hums as he gently rubs circles on Pete’s stomach, knowing that was why Pete had come to him in the first place. Whenever Pete felt icky, he’d come to Gabe demanding a wide variety of things from cuddles to foot rubs (which tended to tickle more than help), and tonight he wanted a tummy rub so he wouldn’t feel sick.

After a few minutes, Pete finally looks up at Gabe with tired eyes as he scootches closer in his cuddling. “Papi, can you tell me that story at bedtime? The one with the cat that grows as big as a house?”

Gabe knew what story Pete was talking about, from the small book of tales that Patrick and Travie had gotten him for his birthday. “Of course I can, kid. You feeling better now, or do you need a bath before bed?”

"Feel lots better, Papi. You’re the best ever." Pete cranes his neck so he can peck a kiss on Gabe’s cheek, giggling as he pulls back.

"Thank you." Gabe chuckles as he ruffles Pete’s hair, sitting up straighter on the sofa. "You’re the best little boy ever, you know? "

Pete’s smile couldn’t have been wider.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brotherly Mikey/Gerard~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the request: Hey, me again. I know you seem to prefer writing Mikey as a CG, but I've been stuck on him as a little for a few days since I sent you that last ask. So what if during BP era, when Mikey was really having a hard time with depression, he kind of wears himself down into being little and starts crying or something and Gerard has to look after him for a night and make sure he's okay? You can include anyone else you want but you don't have to. Thanks so much and lots of love :)
> 
> sorry if it sounds weird idek

Gerard had rarely seen Mikey get into such a headspace when he wasn’t with Ray, not like he’d seen tonight.

Like, Gerard knew that Mikey had been pretty _out of sync_ with everything, including himself, he should’ve honestly been expecting him to come to him.

Just maybe not in silent tears and clingy hands. Not that he entirely minds, he wouldn’t be his older brother if he did.

Gerard just takes him in warmly, having a feeling of what the younger might want from him, and gets him settled on the bed in his room. Mikey looks _so vulnerable_ in this moment, sniffling softly and almost refusing to have Gerard leave his sight as he wraps his arms around one of the dark-colored pillows Gerard kept on his bed.

“Don’t worry, I’m here.” Gerard says softly, climbing onto the bed himself and pulling Mikey into his lap, where he seems to fit well.

They’re like that for what could probably be close to an hour; Gerard slowly rocking Mikey in his lap while saying soothing words, Mikey crying into his shoulder without so much as a word. If it had been just about anyone else he knew, Gerard would’ve been worried about the lack of talking during this time. 

Soon enough, Mikey finally detaches himself from Gerard, and gets off of the bed, mumbling something almost silently.

“What’d you say, sweetheart?” Gerard asks, assuming the caretaking role he knew Mikey needed, _this wasn’t the first time he’d done so._

“Said ‘m hungry, Gee.” Mikey responds tiredly, blinking his brown eyes open and shut lazily as he stuffs his twitchy hands in his hoodie pocket.

Gerard gets up off of the bed, coming over to Mikey and opening the door to the hall. “Okay, how about…some poptarts?”

-&-

When Gerard and Mikey get to the kitchen and Gerard gets the poptarts out, breaking the strawberry flavored pastries into fourths for Mikey, who takes them with the faintest hint of a smile. “Thank you, Gee.” He murmurs, then nibbling quietly into a piece.

“Course. You need anything else?” Gerard asks, stopping behind a chair in wait of the younger man’s answer.

Mikey shakes his head, curling up in the chair he was sitting in, a small hum escaping him as he ate.

They sit at the table like that for a while, neither saying a word as Mikey eats and eventually reaches for the crazy-straw cup of juice Gerard had set out earlier.

-&-

After Mikey eats, he insists that he’s not tired, even though the tiny yawns and lapses in attention tell Gerard different. However, Mikey’s had a hard night, well…a hard few months. Gerard’s not going to demand that he go to bed right away. He takes Mikey to the basement den and sets up the entire first season of _Transformers_ to play, figuring that watching Autobots and Decepticons will put Mikey to sleep eventually.

Mikey seems fine with the selection, curling up on the sofa next to Gerard, who covers him up with one of the blankets.

“Thanks…for taking care of me, Gee.” He whispers as he leans into Gerard’s side, still focused on the television some minutes later.

Gerard wraps his arm around Mikey’s shoulder and hums softly. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, Mikey.”

Mikey doesn’t say anything else after that, just cuddles closer to Gerard as one episode of _Transformers_ becomes another, and the next time Gerard looks down, he’s fast asleep; thumb in his mouth and looking more content then he had been in a long while.

Gerard knows that what he’s done won’t make his little brother recover completely, but he at least knows that it’ll at least help for a while, and that’s what counts.

_end._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little!pete/cg!patrick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowowowowowwow this took over a month to get to im so sorry *sweats nervously*  
> an anon wanted some little!pete/cg!patrick wherein pete takes note that patrick is sad and makes him a get better present, basically.   
> I hope this is good.

It’s not often that Pete’s little, _really._ But even then, he can tell when Patrick (or his Daddy in this case) isn’t feeling himself. If this was somebody else and _not_ Patrick, he’d probably straightforward ask him, but he’s not the most straightforward person himself in headspace so he doesn’t.

Instead, Pete waits until he’s put down for his nap (which he insists on the best of days that he _doesn’t_ need), and waits until after Patrick has tucked him in the guest bedroom bed, kissed him on the forehead and left before jumpstarting his plan. He stays under the covers long enough to give his Daddy the illusion that he’s asleep and won’t need to check in on him and only then does he clamber out of the bed and to the door.

“I dunno why ‘m nervous, Batty.” He whispers to his stuffed bat, whose gray head is peeking out from his hoodie pocket with a sewn-in look of wonder. “I jus’ want Daddy to feel not sad.”

Pete hesitates a few more moments before cautiously opening the door, checks _leftright_ to see if Patrick’s anywhere in the vicinity, which he isn’t. He sighs a small breath of relief as he tiptoes out into the hall, shivering as the cooler air hits whatever exposed skin had been warmed by the guest bedroom.

He continues to tiptoe down the hall to where he _knows_ Patrick keeps his paper and crayons when he’s not using them, in the third drawer in the file cabinet at the end of the hallway. _This is dangerous territory in the moment, and he must not be caught._

Pete uses every single spy skill he can think of from watching TV to get to the file cabinet, minus the rolling tactic he _really_ wanted to use (but knew would be noisy, he hasn’t perfected it yet!), and he does make it without problem. He opens the drawer, cringing when it creaks but snatching paper and a box of crayons as quickly as possible before closing it and sneaking back into a safe spot in the hall.

It doesn’t take nearly as long to get back to the guest bedroom and safely under the covers again, where Pete deposits the paper and crayons along with Batty, who he puts in his lap. “We were really quiet, weren’t we?” Pete asks in a normal level voice, nodding his head as he dumps out the crayon box onto the bed.

After that, Pete’s relatively quiet though he occasionally hums to himself as he colors in the picture he’s started for his Daddy, _knowing_ that this’ll make him feel not so sad. _Hopes it’ll make him feel better._

“D’you think I should write something nice on this or-?” Pete looks down at Batty about half an hour later in question, totally missing the fact that _Patrick’s at the door._

“Write something nice on what?”

Pete’s head shoots up, eyes wide as he sees Patrick standing at the door with an eyebrow raised. “Uh…I was making you something, Daddy?” he says weakly, putting down the purple crayon he was previously holding.

“Oh.” Patrick says, sighing as he makes his way over to the bed, where Pete still hasn’t made a move. “Can I see it or are you not done with it yet?”

“You can look at it, Daddy. It’s done ‘sides something nice on top.”

Patrick can tell that Pete’s nervous about this, probably because he’d been caught, but he runs a hand reassuringly through his dark hair as he picks up the paper and looks at it.

The picture, in Pete’s disorganized headspace drawing skills; appears to be Pete and himself outside with Hemmy and Penny, and Pete’s holding a bright red heart in his left hand (his right happens to be holding Patrick’s left hand) with a smile on his face.

“I just wanted you to feel not sad, Daddy.” Pete deflates after a moment, leaning against Patrick’s side and looking at the picture with him. “If I gave you a heart then you’d be _really_ happy, right? So I colored that in too, and Hemmy and Penny are there cause you smile lots whenever they jump on you and give you doggie kisses.”

_Wow,_ Patrick thinks to himself as he wraps an arm around Pete’s shoulder and brings him close, hugging him. _Just, wow._

“You’re incredibly kind, Pete. Seriously. You’ve just made my day _so much better_.” Patrick says as he fully gets on the bed, gently gathering Pete into his lap.

Pete gasps when the words reach his ears, and he wriggles in Patrick’s lap to look up at him. “Really, Daddy?” he whispers, barely noting how his hands manage to make their way into Patrick’s own.

“Yeah, kiddo. You know I love you a lot, right? I might not tell you that much, but I do.”

Pete knows, giggling softly as he nods and settling his head under Patrick’s chin, because _of course his Daddy loves him._ He definitely smiles wide as the moon when Patrick kisses his temple and starts to him something vaguely familiar but not all at once.

_end._

**Author's Note:**

> I am not taking anymore Reverse Week prompts, but I am still taking regular prompts. All prompts will be posted on here after they are posted on the tumblr, so you should check the tumblr semi-regularly this week. (tumblr is bammyjammies)  
> Also, I am literally on the verse blog a lot and most of it at the moment is headcanons from me and followers, it's fun! You should join in!!


End file.
